I know, you never intended to be in this world./ But you’re in it all the same./ so why not get started immediately./ I mean, belonging to it./ There is so much to admire, to weep over./ And to write music or poems about.

from The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac by Mary Oliver

Daily offerings of small banana leaf gifts of flowers and incense are left outside of homes, on random steps and corners, under trees all around in Bali. They give thanks and celebrate life. This ritual is both in this world and of this world. It is thanks and celebration for all that is and all that will be. The offerings sing a song of praise and lamentation. They are music and poetry.

In my quest to be and belong in the world, I practiced yoga at a retreat in Bali. On the last day of the retreat, we sent an offering of flowers and ashes down the small river that ran behind the compound where we practiced. The offering held our brokenness and wholeness. The offering held our sorrow and our joy. The offering held our pain and love. The offering held our music and poetry. As our offering flowed down the river, I understood a little more about what it meant to hold all experience close. To treasure the falling apart and the coming back together. To admire and to weep. To become what I am not yet.